After talking and texting everyone who knows I'm going away, I feel better. Still nervous as hell, but I managed to finally get some sleep and am fairly sure I've packed what's allowed (although you never really know until you get there what they'll take away).

Having spent time in a psych ward in 2012, detox in September, it's a truly dehumanizing process. On the plus side, I'm now somewhat of a frequent flier and know what to expect. Hospitalization in a regular ED/hospital setting is whatever you bring, which is trying to pack anything while you're in excruciating pain and just trying to remember the basics. Hospitalization when you have warning and are going to psych/substance abuse means going through a long list of prohibited materials and just trying to remember what's allowed.

Honestly, I'm still scared. My parents are picking me up at noon, my intake is at 4pm and after that I'm in the system. I didn't bother with makeup, or anything that's a luxury. I'm there to get better, and if this is what it takes, then I will do it. I'll also be offline for a month likely, so this is it. I'm hoping for the best.

I can't sleep, I can't eat. I'm burning through a firestorm in my head knowing that I'm not just doing this halfway; I'm committing myself for a full 28 days. I'm terrified, even though I know this is the right thing for me, but god dammit, why can't I do this the easier way? I've tried outpatient but now I've run out of options. I'm trying to get my bills in order since I don't  have a significant other who can help to take the burden from me, and trying not to be angry about it.

I've been awake for 3 hours trying to sleep, but failing. I'll make it since I always do, but it's going to be a hard go-around. I hope to make it out.

Sometimes things just throw you off the rails and back into rage mode. It happened again, after a pleasant Thanksgiving, and then multiple familial interactions that just piled up one after the other that enraged me. I wish family was a safe space, where I gain strength from their support and love.

It's never been that way since I was 13, and has gotten worse as time passes. Part of it is my fault and I admit that. However, the other side of blame is what makes me want to cut my family out of my life since they don't own it or deal in the real world to try and fix or at least minimize their damage to our family.

I still love them, but I never thought that I would simultaneously hate them. I think I can officially say that now, while preparing for the last days of multiple family members. It's awful to think about, but it's realistic. I have power of attorney, and know what to do. I just wish I regretted it more.